Should've Gone to Bed
by hhwgv
Summary: Dean takes Kevin to the bar for his 21st birthday, and when Kevin wakes up, he doesn't remember any of it. He's mortified when he sees that he text Sam about his biggest secret: that he's in love with Sam. He expects Sam to feel awkward, but is pleasantly surprised when Sam returns the feelings.


***Author's note: Inspired by the song **_**Should've Gone to Bed **_**by the Plain White T's.**

Kevin woke up feeling disoriented. His head was pounding and the instant he stood up, he had to run to the bathroom to throw up. Last night was his 21st birthday, and Dean had taken him to a bar for a "real party." That was how Dean said it, at least. Kevin barely remembered it, but he hoped that he hadn't done anything embarrassing.

He trudged to the kitchen to get breakfast and found Sam sitting at the table, coffee and a book in front of him. "Morning, Kevin," Sam grinned, looking up from his book. "How's your hangover?" Kevin just grunted as he put bread in the toaster. "That bad, hey? I thought it might be."

"Why?" Kevin groaned. "What did I do?"

"Well, let's just say next time you go out, you might want to leave your phone at home," Sam suggested. "And maybe stick to two beers."

Kevin poured himself a cup of coffee and took his toast to the table. "Oh god. Did I text you or something?" he asked, desperately hoping he hadn't. When Sam hesitated, he knew that he did. "Okay, I don't want to know specifics right now, just tell me if it was mortifying."

"It's not too bad," Sam answered. "I did worse at my first college party. It'll be fine." He assured the younger boy.

Kevin sighed in relief. "I don't remember anything from last night," he admitted. "All I remember is Dean telling everyone it was my birthday then getting a bunch of shots."

"Yeah, that happens. Especially on your 21st, everyone tries to get the birthday boy as drunk as possible," Sam explained. "It's horrible, really. But that reminds me, I didn't get to give you your birthday present yesterday. I've just gotta go get it, wait here."

When Sam left the room, Kevin wished he had his phone with him. He wanted to see if he could figure out exactly what it was he had done and whether or not Sam was lying about it not being bad. Of all the things he could say to Sam, there was one that he wanted to keep secret. He hoped he hadn't shared that secret. If he did, he would probably die of embarrassment.

Sam returned with a large gift bag and placed it on the floor by Kevin's chair. There was a card on top of the tissue paper, so Kevin carefully opened the envelope to read it. It had the same generic birthday message as every other card, but on the inside Sam had written a note saying that he was proud of the person Kevin was becoming. He smiled and put the card on the table. He took the tissue paper out and started to look at the contents of the gift bag. It looked like there were a lot of things in there.

When he had finished pulling everything out of the bag, he looked at its contents on the table. Sam had gotten him a gold coffee mug that, when warm, had the word 'prophet' scrolled on the side, a new video game, and a few dvds. But Kevin's favourite thing was the journal. It was thick and bound in soft, brown leather. "I thought you might want to keep track of the important things," Sam had said when Kevin picked it up. "I have one just like it, well, two, actually. In one, I write down all of the things we hunt, and in the other I write about the things that are really important," he continued. "It helps when your head gets too full."

Kevin gave Sam a hug and thanked him for the gifts before excusing himself to go take a shower. He walked back to his room as fast as he could without throwing up, he needed to check his phone. He grabbed his phone of the charger and checked his texts. "No," he muttered as he scrolled through the many messages he'd sent Sam last night. "No, no, no, no, no." The texts had started out innocently enough, telling Sam he should come to the bar because they were having a great time. That evolved to him saying he needed Sam there and saying that he missed Sam. The texts were getting harder to read, but there was one that was clearly legible. Kevin stared at the screen in disbelief. There it was: "I love you Sam." Unfortunately for him, the text afterwards wasn't as legible. He squinted at his screen, which read "I livlr yoje hair snnf yiye ass js grajt." Kevin was completely mortified when he realized what he'd written. _I love your hair and your ass is great. _As he kept scrolling down, he saw some texts that looked like they were supposed to be sexts. "Well, this is great," he thought. "I will never be able to face Sam again."

After his shower, he really didn't want to leave his room. He didn't want to see Sam, so he just flopped onto his bed and lay there with his face in the blankets. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but he suspected he had fallen asleep. He looked up when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he called feebly. Kevin looked up, hoping it would be Dean or Cas. No such luck.

"Hey Kevin, I just… I want to talk to you about… last night," Sam said gently.

"Oh god," Kevin moaned, pushing his face farther into the blankets. "I'm sorry, Sam. Just ignore it."

"I was going to ignore the texts, I left that to being drunk or Dean stealing your phone, but I talked to Dean and he said you were on your phone all night. But it wasn't until after we talked this morning that I heard the voicemail…" Sam gently nudged Kevin in the side. Kevin sat up and made eye contact with Sam for the first time since he'd realized what he'd done.

"I left you a voicemail?" Kevin asked, cringing inside. "How bad was it?"

"That depends on your definition of bad," Sam replied as he took a seat on the bed next to Kevin. "Just listen to it."

Sam pressed play and Kevin's tinny voice filled the room. "Sam… shhh, I'm calling Sam," he slurred. "Sam you really need to be here… I need you to be here, because... you're my favourite person in the whole wide world. You're pretty and funny and smart and tall, oh man, you are tall. Plus, you have a really nice butt that I look at all the time... oops! Maybe I shouldn't have said that!" drunk Kevin giggled. "Sam, Sam, Sammy, Sammifer… you know what I really want for my birthday? You! Sam, I love you and I'm not just saying that because Dean gave me like five shots of tequila. I really, really love you. But not like a brother or friend, like a boyfriend. I just want to kiss your stupid face and play with your hair and cuddle with you at night…" The words were difficult to make out, but they were still audible. In the background you could hear Dean telling Kevin that it was time to hang up, so he continued, "Deanie weenie is being a meenie, hah, that rhymed. He says I have to go. Sammy, I love you." The message ended and Kevin's face was beet red.

"Oh my god," Kevin remarked. "I completely understand if you don't want to see me for a while…" Kevin looked at his hands, not daring to look at Sam's face.

"Is that how you really feel?" Sam murmured. Kevin was so embarrassed, but there was no point in lying, so he nodded gently. He heard Sam sigh beside him, "Oh good, I thought it was just me." Kevin looked up in confusion and Sam continued. "I…" he took a deep breath. "I love you too, Kevin. I've noticed the spark between us and I thought I might have just been imagining it. I'm so glad I wasn't." He smiled and laid a gentle kiss on Kevin's lips. "I would love it if you kissed my stupid face and played with my hair _while _we cuddle at night." Kevin looked up at Sam, his embarrassment quickly changed to a mixture of shyness and joy. He pulled Sam closer to him and gave him a firm kiss.


End file.
